Another old fogey story

Prompted by a post at altLondon, triggered by a post at Toronto Sun Family I reminisced:

I was a cub scout on tour. We were there in our uniforms and caps being led around the Free Press offices. I remember the huge presses and the typesetting room – by this time they were typing at linotype machines and casting large metal plates to print from. We also went into Merle Tingley’s office.

Now those press guys seemed heroic. I would have been happy to have been a press guy when I grew up. But seeing Ting actually sitting there and drawing a real cartoon, “Man,” I said to myself, “I’m getting his job when I grow up.”

From Newspapers are killing cartoons on CJR Daily, the Columbia Journalism Review:

It’s been fifty years since The Saturday Review declared American editorial cartooning a moribund art. In the three-page autopsy, the magazine’s staff coroner of all things cultural, Jerome Beatty, argued that the cartoonist’s lifeblood had been quieted by taboo-conscious editors who bent “over backwards” to avoid offending readers, publishers, and advertisers. …

For instance, David Wallis, editor of Killed Cartoons, a new collection of 100 nixed panels from the past century, argues that cartoonists have been silenced by “fearful editors” who avoid race, religion, corporate power, and other subjects that might offend. …

A full accounting of what is lost with the dwindling number of staff cartoonists is difficult to measure. Cartoons excite readers in ways that editorial essays can’t. Their simple strokes allow complex ideas to bypass the mind and kaboom through the nervous system, offering instantaneous understanding, and depending on one’s personal politics, an unalloyed dose of pleasure or pain. …

I am lucky to do what I want to do.


One thought on “Another old fogey story

  1. > I remember the huge presses…

    I know that I accompanied an aunt on visits to the old Richmond St. site, but the only recollection that I retain is having been awed by the sound. How things change. Now we’re going to have a tabloid that’s produced elsewhere, and we’ll be lucky before long if much more than the facade of a local presence remains.

    The only similar impression of being awe-struck that I still have is with respect to the railway roundhouse. That memory is somewhat clearer for some reason, even though it seems to me that it must have been from about the same time period.


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